ANGELA'S ASHES

Share the Love

Kids, for the better part of 2014 and the beginning of 2015 I was a kleptomaniac. Nothing fancy like Bonnie and Clyde. I was a shameless petty thief. My sticky fingers were attracted to chargers, earphones, USB cables and any other wire necessary for the 21st Century life. Not that I didn't have any of my own, believe it or not, I was doing it for my friends. When my dad died I felt like I needed to protect the people around me and their belongings. As an impulse I started collecting people's cables subconsciously to protect them from thiefs. I know it sounds really ironic now but I was doing it out of concern. This was until I had millions of earphones on my bed which I never used because the Luhya in me likes music banging loud from a speaker not whispering selfishly into eardrums. I also started realising that people I hang out with were complaining about their property.

I'm not about that life anymore. These days I only 'borrow' UP magazine copies. I stole this month's issue during an art exhibition at Kuona Trust. That's also how I treated myself to the December issue from my sister's stuff. That issue was about how Blankets and Wine is the best place in Nairobi to meet men and Kuona the best place to meet women.I could have given you my copy but if you're reading this it's too late. I already used it to light a jiko. No need letting it hang around my room till my sister finds out about it. Burn the evidence!

It's a habit I'm trying to quit. It's wrong to look at people's things and think you can have them for yourself just because you have the power to do so. That's how land grabbers and thiefs operate. They snatch people's things with the confidence that no one will fight back. I am well aware of this no- fighting-back game. My tiny body cannot allow me to fight back unless I'm tired of life and I decide I want to meet my Maker asap. I'm too small to even show that I'm not happy with a decision that's been made. Someone can just take me by one hand and throw me into a ditch never to be remembered. Therefore I understand the helplessness of not being able to defend yourself.

I'm reading Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt. The first part of this book shows how difficult their childhood was, languishing in poverty and sadness. I have to admit that my first mental picture was of African kids because it's not everyday you hear about hunger in America. It was quite frustrating reading of how Frankie's three siblings died of sicknesses which had cures and his drunk father whose pride could not let him beg or do certain jobs. So the kids are living from hand to mouth waiting for their dad to get some money from the government hoping he won't spend it all on booze.

Offcourse the theme changes when Frankie grows older but it felt like his early years were a series of "serikali nisaidie." They mainly depended on the state, family members or the church.

I don't want to live like that. I don't like seeing people who live like that. It's a hopeless life when someone does nothing else with their existence than take take take.

Be about something, kids. No need,living a life where the only entertainment you can afford is sex. Contribute to the society you live in. Maybe you could discover something new. One needs to live without being a victim of circumstances.

This is quite moving faith. You damn bet o like how you've brought the issue of living up to something. unfortunately,many don't really live, some exist. living is not just existence, it is the impact. Nice piece